


Method of Loci

by BlessedMasochist



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: All of this is happening in Ed's head, Multi, Nygmobblepot, Riddler/Edward/Oswald, Threesome - M/M/M, Trans Male Character, Trans Oswald Cobblepot, but why should that mean it isn't real?, drug abuse warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:00:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23842651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlessedMasochist/pseuds/BlessedMasochist
Summary: The Ancient Greeks had a method of study and memorization that allowed Edward to build a space in his mind wherein he could organize and store knowledge, a beautiful, shining utopia of thought.Only after Edward kills his only friend his utopia becomes a charred remnant, a ruin of destruction and loneliness. He begins to take drugs to see his friend again, and hopefully attain a shred of the happiness he once possessed.Really this is just a PWP about Edward with the Riddler and Oswald inside his mind palace. I really wanted to explore the concept of Eddie having a mind palace so elaborate he was able to physically go there while tripping on whatever crazy psychotropic drugs Babs gave him.
Relationships: Oswald Cobblepot/Edward Nygma
Comments: 14
Kudos: 59





	1. Chapter 1

Edward Nygma had always considered a well-organized mind to be the foundation of intelligence. When he was a boy, he conceived of his mind as a sort of records office. Each filing cabinet housing information organized by hierarchical points, ranging from the main subject (certainly not alphabetically!) down to subcategories therein contained. He once tried to describe his system of thought to his teacher when he was asked how, at the age of eight, he remembered the exact chemical formula for the caffeine in her coffee. 

Inevitably flummoxed, she dismissed his explanation as mere rambling and said he must have remembered it from a book. Honestly, where else would he have gotten it from? 

Over the years, his system developed in sophistication. He adopted a more rhizomatic technique, which allowed him to organize data and facts laterally based on key factors and consistencies. The Ancient Greeks had a method of study and memorization that allowed Edward to build a space in his mind wherein he could organize and store knowledge, A beautiful, shining utopia of thought. 

The palace he created was magnificent, a gilded monument to enlightenment. Inside the main foyer were paintings of complicated formulas he needed to remember, at the forefront of his mind, tapestries of facts and figures, all within easy reach. Along the marble atrium, was a long cavernous hall. Golden arched doors led to individually crafted rooms, each with its own particular purpose. Each of the 2000 rooms were accessible from another. Edward had been able to memorize an inordinate amount of information due to his method of loci, and he felt at peace, perusing its many rooms and gardens. Plato had said one must leave their human body, flush with confusing sentiment and emotion behind. So Edward, desperate for an escape (first from his father, then his peers, then himself) built a shining palace of light, with a hall of mirrors at the center. Upon later reflection, he supposed this is where his other self developed as a means of hiding the parts of himself he did not like and seeing only confidence, power, intelligence, and beauty. 

The part of himself that ruled the palace could be consulted only within the Hall of Mirrors. He was content to stay there in beautiful, glittering immuration until, 

“I love you! I’ve loved you since the first moment that I saw you! No! No, no, no, no, no!” 

The glass shattered as Edward fell back into the dark. 

Not content to crawl back through the looking glass, Edward’s other half now had free reign of the palace. All the rooms, memories, gathered intelligence, his to use, and scrutinize. Edward lost the fight against him, and accepted him slowly, tempered him, bonded with him, and embraced the new savoir-faire he brought to his life. They worked as one, developing a new suite together for their friendship with Oswald Cobblepot. The room was decorated in rich purples and elegant blues. Drawers and paintings filled with menial facts about the older man, from his shoe size to his preferred cologne, were scattered about the decadent space. Slowly, the decor shifted to the comforting warmth of the manor, where Oswald so graciously allowed them refuge. 

“I don’t love you.” 

The palace looked now like a crumbling fortress: broken spires, and frayed tapestries; once glittering white marble, now blackened with soot and chipped. A great fire had swept through his mind when he shot his best friend. A burning, tearing, screaming inferno that consumed the palace and everything therein. It nearly destroyed everything he had built of himself, but Edward had survived the ordeal, and Oswald Cobblepot had lost. The echoes of opulence and luxury stung Edward’s eyes now whenever he retreated to his palace. Rebuilding would be a mental challenge he was not ready for. The part of himself that had set fire to his beloved home sang merrily as he ripped carefully laid carpets and tore portraits off the walls. 

“What, praytell, is the use of all this intelligence, Eddie, if you’re going to insist on being an absolute idiot?” 

“You don’t believe I should have shot him?” 

“No, you fool, I think you should have thanked him.” 

He shut the doors on his palace then and barred the doors. 

The little blue pill cracked against his teeth, a sip of tepid tea washing the bitter powder down his throat. He hated the shrieking, humorless laugh that accompanied the charred doors of his desecrated palace swinging open. Still, this was the only way he could stomach venturing inside these days. 

The Riddler stood in the center of the foyer with a broad grin on his plush lips. “It is so good of you to join us,” he purred, spinning round Edward as if putting on a show. “We’ve missed you terribly.” 

“We?” And he knew the second he asked he’d regret it. 

Oswald, limping, and dripping, and so very pale, came striding into the hall, looking equally as smug as The Riddler. 

“We were just talking about you,” Riddler said, putting an arm around Oswald’s shoulders. 

Edward forgot his anger and hubris when he saw Oswald, alive and self-satisfied. Oswald’s hypothetical ghost still seeped with his own grave, and this was not the first time Edward had seen him in such a state. He would have advised him against dripping on the carpet if not for the destruction done to his old sanctuary. However, Ed couldn’t get tuxedos, sensual red lighting, and Oswald’s lascivious song out of his mind. The Riddler would surmise -correctly- that Ed would return to confront him again. 

He couldn’t stand seeing his other self wrapping his arm around his biggest mistake. He didn’t want to admit to his guilt. That he severely missed and needed Oswald. That he might even return his feelings for him. 

“I-um…” Edward stammered, taking a moment to breathe and refocus his gaze on the Riddler. “Of course you were. You knew I was coming.”

“I confess that the trouble with being in your mind is I always know what you’re thinking,” he grinned, offering Oswald a cheeky wink. 

The phantom bird mirrored his smile, resting his dark head against the other man’s shoulder as he observed Edward. “Hello, Ed, long time no see~”

Edward frowned at Riddler’s exchange with the false Oswald. It truly hadn’t been that long since he was last taunted by this Oswald. It was a vision Edward had thought about and fretted over frequently. He ignored his old friend’s greeting and gave the Riddler a scowl. “You know I’ve come to silence you once and for all. You’re choosing your last act to be what? To gloat?” 

Of course, he knew about the lengths Edward had gone through to find someone equal to his murdered ex-friend. The Riddler was there listening to the inebriated thoughts his brain whispered into the now silent manor. He knew the Hell Ed was going through and tenaciously contributed to it. 

“Silence me, Eddie darling? You need me,” whispered the Riddler, the sound of his voice seeming to echo in the chamber. He shifted behind Oswald, nimble fingers lifting his jaw to kiss along the pristine line of his throat. “You are standing in a castle built entirely in your mind, staring at a manifestation of your best friend, and still have the audacity to deny your feelings~” 

Edward took a deep breath, shifting his eyes away from Oswald’s arched neck. His face grew slightly warm. It was guilt. That’s all this was. Guilt. “Or perhaps you’re overworking yourself, forcing feelings upon me that only you possess. You wanted me to thank him, after all. It seems like you need me.”

Riddler laughed, a low smooth chuckle deep within his chest. Oswald leaned back against him, a soft moan escaping his lips as Riddler continued his ministrations. “You’re talking yourself in circles, and for what?” As he spoke, he began to undo Oswald’s tie, letting it fall easily to their feet on the scorched floor. 

Edward watched Oswald relax against his other-self. The moan that escaped Os’s lips made Edward sigh. He couldn’t deny that Oswald was stunning to look at even in this paler and soaked state. He swallowed as he felt warmth swell between his legs. “This is just a fantasy!” Edward nervously stated. “Nothing more.” 

Riddler looked up, dark eyes locking with his double. “Is it not to your liking, Eddie?” he asked with a smirk. He took a small step from Oswald, and when he spoke again, his breath ghosted over Edward’s neck, his arms wrapping around him from behind, cutting off his escape. “Look at him,” he murmured, hot, plush lips against his throat. 

Oswald’s form seemed to shift, Edward unable to focus on the details. His eyes fluttered shut as he tried to keep his wits with Riddler’s lips and hands trying to play him for a fool. When he managed to pry his eyes open again, Oswald’s skin was a healthy pink, his rosy cheeks were dusted with soft brown freckles, and he was wearing Edward’s old pajamas. “Look at him,” Riddler repeated. “This was the moment we should have made him ours. In your apartment, our budding friendship~” 

Oswald approached, Edward still trapped against the Riddler’s firm chest. He reached up, wide blue eyes sparkling with mischief, and cupped his cheek. “Ed, let go.”

Edward, overwhelmed by the Riddler’s grasp and Oswald’s touch, leaned his face into Oswald’s hand. His heart raced, nearly forgetting that Oswald wasn’t really cupping his cheek. That this wasn’t the first days of their friendship. His thoughts and words had denied everything, but he couldn’t outwit his body and its stored longing. He turned his face and kissed the palm of Oswald’s hand. 

Both Riddler and Oswald smiled. “Good boy,” Riddler breathed against his throat, teeth dragging against the sensitive flesh. Oswald stood up on his toes and slowly brought their lips together at last. 

Edward shivered at the Riddler’s words, reveling in the sharp prickling sting of his teeth against his skin. He slid his lips over Oswald’s in an ardent and slow embrace. He wanted a chance to explore, wriggling against the Riddler’s hold, desperate to reach out and hold Oswald in his arms himself. Edward was intoxicated by the duo’s touches. So willing in the moment to let go and let this fantasy take him. 

Riddler guided Edward’s hands to Oswald’s chest, long fingers helping him to undo the buttons of his pajama top. “I know how long you’ve wanted our little bird. He’s yours, here, for the taking~”

Edward stared into Oswald’s expressive blue eyes. He assisted his other half in undoing the pajama top then slowly pulled the sleeves from Oswald’s shoulders. He hesitated, breath shaking as he stared at the pale, freckled skin beneath. How many nights had he imagined Oswald bare and trembling before him? How many times had he attempted to purge the thought from his mind and failed? He leaned down to pepper soft kisses to Oswald’s freckled shoulders and placed his hands on his chest. A shiver ran down his spine.

Oswald looked up at Edward and smiled warmly. He leaned into the other man’s touch with a soft moan. 

The Riddler smirked against Edward’s neck. “I suggest we move this to a more comfortable place, gentlemen.”

“Yes. Let’s,” Edward groaned. He looked back at the Riddler. “Oswald’s room is the only room untouched by the fire. We’ll go there.” 

Edward followed the two through the charred ruins of his inner sanctum. He carefully tread up the now unstable imperial staircase. Oswald’s room sat at the end of the long, dark hallway. The double door remained undamaged and untouched by Ed for quite some time. Inside sat an almost perfect replica of Oswald’s master suite in the mansion. 

Riddler wasted no time in stripping Oswald of Edward’s old, ill-fitting pajamas. He then turned his attention to Edward with a smirk. “Strip and get on the bed, love.” 

Edward nodded, feeling strange that the Riddler’s smirk made a chill run down his spine. He stripped himself of his suit, throwing it over the pajamas on the floor. He crawled onto the bed, taking his place next to Oswald.

“My beautiful boys,” Riddler purred, deft fingers undoing his dark tie, moving steadily down to pull the tails off his shirt from the line of his trousers. Oswald turned to Edward on the bed, drawing tantalizing patterns on his soft skin, hot mouth, placing kisses anywhere within reach as he forced Edward to watch the display before him. 

Edward ran his fingers through Oswald’s hair, moaning softly at the light touch of his old friend’s lips on his skin. His eyes focused on his other self, taking in every detail of his bare chest. Ed wasn’t aware of how fit and attractive his naked body looked. “You look...amazing.” 

“Narcissist,” Oswald whispered affectionately, gentle fingers turning his cheek to capture his lips. Riddler divested himself of the rest of his clothing and approached the bed, warm hand caressing the length of Edward’s spine. 

Edward hummed and grinned against Oswald’s lips, sliding his tongue in between his teeth. He leaned back into the Riddler’s caress, wrapping his arm around Oswald’s shoulders to keep him close. “I plead the fifth," he chuckled, biting Oswald’s lower lip. 

Riddler grinned as he knelt on the bed. “Why hide your desire, beloved? It’s exceedingly evident…” His fingers trailed over Edward’s chest, down the line of his stomach to tease and caress his twitching cock. “Admit how much you want this, want us, and see your desires fulfilled.”

Ed groaned, rolling his hips. He leaned back to bite at the Riddler’s chest. “Right now, yes. I do want this.” Edward whispered between breaths. He switched his focus again and ran his hands up Oswald’s chest, fingers toying with his pink nipples. “I want you both.” 

“What a good boy,” Riddler praised, groaning at the sharp bite. He leaned forward, breath ghosting over Edward’s ear. “Let’s pamper our little bird. It’s a special treat to have him here, after all.”

Edward melted at the praise. “Of course.” He leaned forward, hungrily kissing down Oswald’s chest. He sucked and bit at the skin of his collarbone, leaving a purpling bruise. He wrapped his arms around his old friend, digging his nails into his back. 

Oswald moaned and whimpered, mouth falling open with a soft, lilting cry. “Gentle,” the Riddler admonished. “He deserves our adoration, not your cruelty.”

“Right.” He nodded, softly kissing the bruising mark in apology. He cupped Oswald’s face and kissed him deeply while his other hand traced the skin of his chest. His fingers slowly journeyed to Oswald’s thigh. 

Oswald spread his legs with a groan, thighs slick with ready arousal. “Eddie,” he moaned against his lips, rolling his hips up, trying to force Edward’s hands further between his legs. “Please touch me.”

Riddler grinned against Edward’s throat, sucking a deep red mark against the pale skin. 

Edward moved his fingers gently to Oswald’s arousal, working him in a circular motion. “God, Oswald. It feels wonderful to touch you.” He sighed, letting out a loud gasp. His cock twitched, heavy and thick against his thigh. Leaning down, he kissed Oswald’s neck with the utmost tenderness. 

Riddler reached down, stroking Edward’s cock languidly. “Do you want to fuck him, Edward? Your cock is so hard in my hand for him, for us. Everything you’ve denied yourself over the past year, everything you single-handedly destroyed is here for you now.” 

Oswald gasped, arching into Edward’s hand, wanting more friction against his sensitive hardness. 

“Look at him, look at how much he wants you, how badly he needs your cock~”

Edward pressed himself against Oswald, fingers stroking the wet bud; he needed to make the other man writhe with pleasure. “God. Please,” Ed moaned, rolling his hips against the Riddler’s hand. “Where should I fuck him? Please.” 

Oswald reached between them and guided Edward’s hand back, through his slick folds, past the first entrance to press against the second. “T-There...please.”

Edward nodded, chest pressed against Oswald’s. He teased the rim of Oswald’s tight hole with one finger then gently pressed inside. He kissed his old friend deeply and passionately on the lips as he worked him. “Fuck, I can’t wait to be inside you.” He breathed between kisses. 

“Ed-Eddie...yes, please…” Oswald groaned, pressing back against him. 

Riddler rolled his hips, aching cock rubbing against the round of Edward’s ass. 

Edward groaned, rolling his hips back against the Riddler’s hard cock. Ed worked Oswald and pressed against sensitive muscles. “So tight.” Realizing the necessity, Riddler reached into the side table drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube, handing it to Edward as he kissed along the line of his shoulder. Edward in turn kissed Oswald’s temple, momentarily pulling away to slick his fingers. He returned, entering his friend once more. He ground back against the Riddler, wanting more from him. 

The other man smirked against Edward’s neck, nipping playfully. “Something you desire, Eddie?” he asked lowly as Oswald reached up between them to pinch Edward’s nipple.

He gasped, pushing a third finger inside Oswald. “Touch me. Fuck me. Please.” Edward moaned, using his free hand to stroke Oswald’s hardness. 

A cry of pleasure bubbled up from Oswald’s lips, blue eyes blowing wide before fluttering closed as he submitted himself to Edward’s ministrations. 

Riddler grabbed the bottle and slicked his own fingers, spreading Edward’s cheeks as he distracted himself with their little bird. He pressed one finger to his entrance, teasing around the sensitive skin; with a smirk, he pushed two fingers inside.

Thoroughly working Oswald, Edward whispered, “Do you think you’re ready for my cock?” With a grin, he teased Oswald’s hardness, slowly removing his fingers from his entrance. He gasped at the intrusion to his own body, pushing himself back against them achingly. 

Oswald’s hips twitched upward in pleasure. “Please, yes, fuck me, Edward. Now.” He pulled Edward’s head down to meet his kiss, biting his lips and moaning against him. 

Riddler chuckled at the wanton display before him and began to stroke in and out of Edward. “Go on, Eddie. Fuck him~”

Edward’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, reveling in the movement of the Riddler’s fingers. He grabbed the lube, slicking his aching cock. He pressed his hands against the back of Oswald’s thighs, pushing them back and apart to further expose his entrance. He rubbed his length down Oswald’s slick heat teasingly. Edward then placed his tip against his friend’s entrance and began to slide inside him. 

“Oh fuck, Ed,” Oswald cried softly, clinging to him as he felt himself stretch around Edward’s cock. “Fuck, you feel so good!” 

“Fuck...Oswald. Fuck!” Edward groaned, his cock completely inside the mirage of his friend. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted, holding himself steady through his quickly faulting willpower. He wanted to take Oswald, fill him completely, devotedly. His brown gaze caught Oswald’s, light eyes shadowed with lust as he stared up at Edward through lidded eyes. 

His cock twitched within him, Oswald’s tight walls caressing him, pulling him further in. 

“Good boy, Ed,” Riddler praised from behind him. “So glad you’ve finally admitted it to yourself.” He was smug, voice a teasing lilt as he twisted and spread his fingers, stretching him slowly. 

Oswald’s hips twitched, desperate to roll up against Edward, to feel more of him, to get him deeper. “M-move,” he commanded, voice cracking with a moan.

“Fuck…” Edward held onto Oswald’s hip, beginning a slow, smooth thrust. He used his free hand to trace his fingers around Oswald’s other entrance. Ed gasped, tightening around the Riddler’s fingers, caught between two pleasures, and he wanted more.

Riddler grinned, adding a third finger to stretch him briefly before pulling out to slick his cock. He rubbed against Edward’s entrance, teasing the sensitive skin between his hole and sac. “Do you want me, Eddie?”

Edward moaned, picking up the pace of his thrusts into Oswald. He inserted one finger carefully inside of his friend’s other entrance, caressing the walls delicately. 

Oswald tilted his head back, mouth falling open as he desperately tried to roll his hips down. “M-more, please.” He was flushed from the tips of his ears down over the flat of his chest. 

“Mm...please.” Edward groaned, delighted by the feeling of the Riddler’s cock against him. He looked down at the debauched figure of his former best friend and grinned, sliding a second finger inside his tight heat. 

Riddler lined his cock up, and -with a smirk- thrust home, forcing Edward deep into Oswald. “You feel so good, Eddie…”

“Oh, fuck!” Edward yelped, breath hitching as the Riddler’s cock slid further inside him. He relaxed, allowing the Riddler’s movements to fuck him and their little bird thoroughly. Edward inserted a third finger inside Oswald, pressing against his most sensitive spots. 

Oswald’s eyes rolled back, a quiet litany of curses and gasps escaping his parted lips as he was filled to the brim with Edward’s cock and fingers. Riddler groaned; he did not give the other man time to adjust before driving his cock deep and hard inside him, setting a brutal pace. 

The Riddler’s hard pace made Edward thrust viciously into Oswald, his fingers mimicking the rhythm as well. Edward tightened around the Riddler’s cock. “Fuck. Yes. This feels so fucking good…” 

“Is this everything you wanted, Ed? To fill Oswald Cobblepot with your cock, to feel him writhing beneath you? Look at him, our precious little bird, so responsive. He loves having you inside him, loves the way you stretch and fill him so perfectly. Why did you deny yourself this? This pleasure, this haven?” Riddler sat up on his knees, gripping Edward’s hips with a bruising force and thrust into him sharply, deeply, nearly pounding him into the smaller man below them. Oswald cried out in pleasure, fingers working his dripping hardness until he clamped down around Edward, screaming his name. 

Edward arched back in pleasure, moaning Oswald’s name. His pulse echoed in his ears, cock throbbing at the sight of their little bird aiding in pleasuring himself. Edward’s cock throbbed at the Riddler’s questions. “I don’t know. It’s so good. I’m so close.” He was overcome by the rough pleasure surrounding him. He loved feeling Oswald. He loved being filled. 

“Let go, Edward,” Oswald whispered below him, reaching up to caress along the line of his jaw. “Give yourself what you’ve always wanted. Freedom, pleasure, everything you could have had by my side.” 

Riddler groaned, cock twitching within Edward at Oswald’s words. He drove his hips forward sharply. “Allow yourself this indulgence, cum for us.” 

At both of their insistences, Edward came hard. His screams echoed throughout the recreated master suite, tears streaming down his cheeks. He continued to thrust in time with the Riddler’s movements, despite his shaking body. “Fuck. Cum inside me. Please. God, it’ll feel so good.” 

Oswald caressed his cheeks, his hair, his chest, anywhere within reach to soothe and comfort him. He kissed along his jaw, whispering words of endearment and praise. Riddler growled low in his throat, thrusting twice more before coming deep within Edward, chest pressed against his back. They stayed together like that for a few moments, a pile of tangled limbs and sticky, panting bodies. 

Edward rested his head against Oswald’s chest, reaching behind him to grab the Riddler’s hand and wrap his arm around him. He kept his eyes closed, attempting to catch his breath and regain stability over his weakened limbs. He pressed light kisses of thanks onto Oswald’s chest. “I...needed that. Thank you.” Edward admitted quietly, cheeks reddening. 

“We know,” Riddler chuckled, shifting to lay beside the other two. “We will rebuild, Edward,” he said after a moment. “We can be born anew, not in spite of Oswald, but because of him.” 

Edward gave a shuddering sigh, swallowing around the lump in his throat. The scene around him was growing dark, Oswald’s arms wrapped around him, and the Riddler’s warm smile were the only things in focus. His body was growing heavy, like falling through sand, and he fell down, down, down. Away from Oswald and his sweet words and kisses. Away from the Riddler and his easy charisma and knowing gaze. Away from his glimpse at happiness. 

He pried his eyes open against the pale light coming through the windows of the parlor. He had fallen asleep on the sofa again; his head felt like someone had driven a metal spike through the prefrontal cortex. Despite the pain, a sense of equanimity had overtaken him. His way forward was clear: embrace the Riddler once more, and show Gotham precisely what he was made of.


	2. Rege Locum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small epilogue no one asked for.

The manor was absolutely in shambles. Furniture either broken or overturned, several half-drunk cups of tea littered the various flat surfaces. Oswald sighed and dismissed his minions to scour the rest of the manor. He didn’t believe Nygma was still present, but the tricky little bastard might’ve left a trap or two. He enjoyed playing games, after all. Once the manor had been cleared, Oswald went into the security suite, curious about Edward’s time spent in his home. 

He popped in a tape at random and began to watch with disinterest as Edward seemed to float from room to room. He scoffed, remembering Edward’s confident boast: Ghosts aren’t real! 

“I would beg to differ, Eddie,” he murmured snidely, fast-forwarding through hours of Edward pacing. 

It was almost unsettling watching Edward shuffle through what seemed to be a repetitive routine, Edward rising and retiring nearly the same time each day, stalking through the dilapidated building entirely unbothered, as though he didn't notice the mess. 

He skipped ahead again, scrutinizing the screen as Edward hunched over the dining table with a bottle of pills, talking to the air. With a faint scowl, Oswald leaned in closer to the monitor, turning the dial for the volume as high as it would go. The audio was muffled, mostly inaudible over the crackle of the grainy VHS.

Edward looked up, wide eyes catching a shadow. "Os...Oswald," he breathed, reaching out as if caressing his dead friend's cheek.

Brow furrowing, a breath caught in his throat as he could have sworn his name passed the other man's lips. 

Had his brilliant mind been lost entirely? Entire conversations seemed to be held in solitary, and Oswald found himself puzzled by the erratic behavior. 

Edward slipped from the chair behind his desk and walked to the divan as if led by the hand. He stripped himself of his raggedy suit, throwing his clothes haphazardly around the floor before sitting in full view on the divan. He rested his head against the back of the chair, chest rising and falling evenly. "F-fuck Oswald..." he groaned, fingers caressing down the line of his chest, over his stomach, to grip his twitching cock.

Skin growing hot around his neck, Oswald was unable to tear his eyes away as Edward tore away his clothing. A deep set flush crept over the bridge of his nose, covering his gaped mouth with his hand as his friend pawed at himself wildly, as though in a trance. 

It was unmistakable now, the ragged moan of his name over the crackle of static as Edward continued his performance, shifting uncomfortably in his seat as the footage began to pique his own arousal.

Edward began to pump his cock, hips rolling into his hand as his mouth fell open in pleasure. "Please...I want you both..."

Both? What was Edward seeing in his addled mind? Oswald squirmed in his chair and continued to watch, heart racing at the thought of being caught watching such sensitive footage.

"God, Oswald. It feels so wonderful to touch you," Edward groaned, cupping his hand as if he were caressing Oswald's sex.

Pulse quickening, his cold blue eyes followed Edward's hands. He squeezed his thighs together with a soft groan as he imagined how those fingers, curled so tightly around Edward's fat cock, might feel running through his wet folds. 

Standing suddenly, Oswald whirled about to shut the door to the security office, bracing a tattered broom beneath the handle for extra security. He settled back before the display with a renewed interest.

Edward was now on his hands and knees upon the divan, ass high in the air, a plush pillow beneath his thrusting hips. "Do you want to fuck him, Edward? Your cock is so hard in my hand for him, for us. Everything you’ve denied yourself over the past year, everything you single-handedly destroyed is here for you now.”

Edward's voice was deeper, more commanding as he writhed beneath his own hands. "Ed..." the former mayor breathed, squeezing his thighs firmly. A wet warmth blossomed between his thighs. 

Edward gave a keening cry, reaching back with his fingers to tease at his entrance. “Look at him, look at how much he wants you, how badly he needs your cock~” He rolled his hips down into his own hand against the pillow. "P-please...where should I fuck him...fuck you, Oswald...? Your cunt seems so tight, but I've dreamt about your ass..."

Oswald shuddered at the crass inquiry, spreading his legs as he watched Edward debauch himself, his impressive cock rutting uselessly against his palm. He could almost feel it sliding over his wet folds, fingers fumbling quickly for his belt to delve inside his underwear, already soaked.

Edward let out a loud moan, back arched as he added a third finger into his stretched entrance. "I can't wait to be inside you, Ossie," he murmured. He moved his hand, gripping the pillow as if it were his dear friend's hips, thrusting his cock forward.

Pinching his swollen clit between two fingers, Oswald let out a low groan, tugging firmly in time to Edward's movement, gasping quietly at the intensity of the sensation.

A litany of curses and praise fell from Edward's lips as he 'fucked' his dearest friend. "You feel so good...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry..."

"Don't apologize now you idiot," Oswald hissed softly, fingers slipping inside himself roughly.

Tears fell down his cheeks even as his mouth fell open in ecstasy. He bucked against the pillow, hips thrusting back onto his fingers greedily. "Fuck Riddler....you feel so good...please. Please fuck me. You feel so fucking good..."

"Who are you fucking here, me or you?" Oswald growled, bucking his hips roughly as he forced a third finger inside his tight heat. In that moment, the kingpin would have sacrificed his power and riches to find himself beneath Edward instead of wedged against the old leather desk chair with his legs spread painfully wide.

Edward growled lowly, long legs spread wide as he raised his hips against the pleasure. He growled low in his throat and spilled against the pillow, fucking his fingers thoroughly as he screamed Oswald's name

Lip splitting between his teeth as he muffled a harsh cry, Oswald tossed his head back with a strangled moan of Edward's name in return, pleasure crashing over him hotly as his fingers frantically rode out his orgasm.

With a boneless sigh, Oswald paused for a moment, vision hazy over the monitor as he curiously awaited what Edward might do next.

Shoulders trembling he removed his fingers and straightened along the divan to lie in a boneless heap. "I'm sorry...I'm...I'm just so sorry..." he murmured into the pillow, holding the soiled thing close.

The video cut out with Eddie crying quietly into the pillow before falling into a fitful sleep.

It was almost heartbreaking to watch as his dear friend held the dusty throw pillow to his chest, fingers caressing the fringe as one might their lover's hair. Oswald sort his trousers out and refastened his belt, watching the screen once more with a sad expression. Edward was not well, and it worried him to think he might be wandering about mentally compromised without protection.

"Ed... Where are you?"


End file.
